A Father's Son
by FeelTheEmotion
Summary: 【 Contains an OC and alternate universe. Modern! 】I've lived most of my life thinking my father abandoned us for no good reason, that he didn't care about me at all, but I was wrong; he did care.


Chapter One

I remember when my parents broke up. Well, maybe that's not the right word since they were married. Let me rephrase... I remember when my parents divorced. I was young when they separated, though. I stayed with my mother while my father lived nearby. Every so often we would move a good ways from where we were, but my dad wouldn't be out of the picture for too long. He'd move to the same town we were in every time. Ha… I miss those days, but they're long gone. He left when I turned ten; for good that time, haven't seen him since. It's weird, though, I can't remember much of him, but the main thing I do remember about him was his cobalt blue irises. It's something him and I have in common, amongst other things too. Mom talks a lot about how long our jet black hair was, how fine it was, how much they mat together of you let them. Funny how I can share so much with a guy I haven't seen in eight years… But whatever, I guess. Can't change the past right?

The sun lights up the room before I can think about him anymore, almost burning my eyes out with its intensity.

"It freakin' hurts…" My voice sounds hoarse, I need something to drink, but I cling to the comfortable feeling of the warm sheets and soft pillow. Too bad, though, cause just when I was about to find sleep again, a familiar face pokes through the crack in the door.

Her tone of voice is stressed, urging me to get up, "Horuk, it's already past 11:00."

I pushed my face into my pillow, trying to drown out the sound of her voice, but she only raised it in response; inflection on almost every verb.

"Horuk, you need to get moving. Don't make me get the bucket again."

As soon as she closed the door I let out a rude scoff I didn't even know I was holding in.

'_Tch… Why me?'_

Getting up seemed almost painful; to be honest, it really was. My mind was groggy and my body resisted me on a whole number or levels. Making my way to the bathroom, I made a bee line towards the shower, turning it up towards the highest setting to warm it up. It was usually slow to heat up in the morning time, so I went to check myself out in the mirror. When I looked into it, I felt that inward cringe that almost every anti-morning person feels when they look at themselves after dragging out of the best flannel sheet cocoon in the world – their beds. Those cobalt blue eyes of mine looked out at me, this was my daily reminder that I was my dad's son… Tan complexion as well, was a reminder of that, as my mother was more pale skinned and my father wasn't. Fine black shoulder hair, loose from my constant tossing and turning, matted together in a heap like a mop. My noise shriveled up in disgust, I sweat in my hair at night and it shows at times like this…badly.

I was grateful when the wisps of steam began to flow from above the shower curtain. I lowered the settings, making sure it was hot enough so that I could barely stand it, yet low enough so that I could endure it before I got in. I just stood there for a while, letting the hot water hit my body and wash the sleep and lethargy away. I washed like I normally do, spending even more time washing out my locks of hair and separating the tangled strands. I don't normally take care of that, since it's been a while since I've left the house, but today was exception. Nolak, my uncle on my father's side, was on his way here at my father's behest. He called ahead of time, a few months ahead actually, asking for a casual visit.

I remember when my dad called about three months ago. My mother was home and she's always in my business no matter what it is, so she immediately wanted to know who was on the other end of the line. I don't think I got past asking his name before my mom snatched the phone from me. Rude. She probably expected it to be one of my school friends, but it wasn't. Her face changed and she told me to go, but I could hear a protest on the phone. The volume wasn't up, so he must've been yelling. It was a deep, masculine yell. They argued on the phone for a good forty five minutes, going back and forth, before my mother hung up on him. I knew she would, she does that when she's run out of ammo. I picked up the phone in the living room as soon as she slammed down on her end in the kitchen. I went outside and listened to the line. I heard him scoff, asking if anyone was there. I spoke to him then; it was the first time I had spoken to my father in almost a decade. It was awkward and slow and I didn't ask any questions worth asking, but I wanted to. After that, we established a schedule at which he could reach me without my mother being home. I talked to him every day since that one, but I still haven't seen him face to face. I asked him where he lived but he only gave me a generic response, "Far away," he said. Cryptic, yes, but I was curious anyways.

Then he popped the question on me, "How would you feel if I asked you to live with me?"

My answer is what sent my uncle here; and although he says he's here for just a "casual visit", both my mother and I know that isn't the case. I haven't told her anything, but she's been acting really stressed lately. She might not _know_, know, but I'm sure she has some clue of what might end up happening. She can feel stuff, I swear.

Several blunt bangs on the door nearly scared the shit outta me.

"You're using up all the hot water, Horuk! You don't pay any bills, remember?!"

'_Oh yeah, I remember. You remind me every day.' _

I sighed as I shut off the water and stepped outside the shower. The cold air hit me hard and I grabbed a towel in an attempt to keep warm. As I dried off, shaking my hair out and patting it kinda dry, I walked over to my bed and flopped back on it instead of making it up, like I probably should've done. I laid there for a minute while I heard my mom's shower starting up. Part of me wondered how much of this she really knew. A loud hum was heard on my nightstand next to my bed. It hummed twice in short bursts, my iPhone. I reached over and grabbed it, opened it up, and went to my messages. It was my uncle Nolak.

_Hey, kiddo. Just touched down, I'm on my way there, _I read. _Be there in an hour, I gotta gift for you from your father._

I had given him the address yesterday, so I took his word for it since he probably had a GPS or something. That last part, though, hit me hard. It took me a few minutes to even come up with a response.

_Cool… What is it?_ I pressed sent before I could specify, so I sent another text right after it. _The gift I mean…_

I put the phone down after I didn't get a response for a minute or so, thinking about what this "gift" could possibly be. Did it come all the way from the faraway place he said he was from? So many questions and no answers for at least another forty five minutes. I needed a breather, so I got up and brushed my teeth. I dug in my closet for a blue shirt and black jeans, some socks, and some black sneakers I like to wear, and put them on. By the time I walked out of my room, mom had finished her shower and was fully dressed in a red shirt and dark colored jogging pants. The living room and kitchen were spotless, like she stayed up all night just to clean them.

'_Damn, what if she did?'_

Currently she was in the kitchen preparing lunch, so that when Nolak arrived he wouldn't be starving for too long.

"Hey, I'm going out." I said nonchalantly, attempting to sneak outside before she could no… But she didn't say no, instead she was about to give me a chore.

She turned to face me before cutting up some bell peppers, "Go to the store and get some tilapia. I forgot I didn't get any last time we went."

I groaned, but she gave me a side-eye look strong enough to tell me to shut up and keep walking if I wanted to live, and I did just that. The Fish Market wasn't too far away, actually, so I didn't need to drive. I grabbed the house keys before I left, locked the door, and started jogging down the street. This cool little thing about living where we do is that there's a little bending school a little farther up the street, and I like to go past there every so often. They have a protective fence to keep the elements inside and from hurting people during spars, even a speculator area inside, but I'm not allowed to go… Bending is a touchy subject with my mom, being a non-bender and all, but I guess I shouldn't place the blame on that. In school, the non-bending kids weren't picked on or anything or treated any different. I think, if anything, they got more respect from the benders. Since we live in the United States, there are an abundance of Earthbender's and Firebender's. Anything else is rare, a minority. Ever since I was young, it's been that way. To be honest, I've never met an airbender or waterbender before.

When I passed the little school, I could see a guy, around my age it looked like, going up against a younger boy. They stood within a white, soft looking training pad, both dressed in a matching white getup. The master stepped forth and gave the go ahead. The match started with the teenage male aiming some fire blasts with several punching motions, the actual fire rolling off his fists and curving through the air at the younger boy. Whoa! Man, I was getting pumped! How would that kid defend himself?! You could tell the older one was dimming his power down a bit, but it was still awesome! The younger bender stomped the ground with his left foot, his movements were rigid. There was only one style of bending that moved like that! A pillar of earth erected itself from the ground and took the fire blasts one after the other. It was a basic form of earthbending so the kid must be learning.

A sudden vibration in my pocket drew my attention away from the fight. I had forgotten all about what I was supposed to be doing. I looked at the clock, fifteen minutes had passed.

"Crap…" The fight was still going on, the young earthbender was holding his ground, but the older firebender was faster and was quickly turning the tables; evading every strike, breaking every defense before it was even erected.

Another vibration from my phone brought my attention back into focus, it was my uncle. I had missed three texts from him, the first one I didn't even notice since I was so into that fight.

_Hey, kiddo. I'm here waitin' on ya. Don't worry about that gift, you'll like it, I think._

_Oh, and your mom said we're going out to eat. Take out or do you want the full blown table/restaurant experience? I'll treat ya._

_Oi, turn around, kiddo._

At that last one, I heard heavy steps from behind. When I turned around I saw a burly, masculine man with long jet black, like mine, except his went all the way down the back, and blue eyes. He had a tan complexion and had an angular nose. His facial features look like they had been chiseled in by hand, they were so hard, but you could tell from the slight wrinkles around his mouth that he smiles a lot. At least, that's what I thought.

He extended his hand out to me and grinned, "Nice to meet you, nephew of mine."

The grin and affection put me at ease and I shook his hand firmly. "Same to you, Uncle Nolak."

I don't like calling adults by their last names, so I went with that so I wasn't rude. After the hand shake, he pat me roughly on the back; I guess he didn't mind.

"We're going out to eat in a while. Care to walk with me? We have some things to discuss." He looked at me before gesturing towards the path back to the house.

I nodded, following him as we walked back, albeit slowly. "So… Mom changed her mind about cooking? That's weird; she usually doesn't go out to eat for anything."

The words slip out before I can rein them back in, but my uncle only chuckled.

"There may or may not have been a request. I trust your father has told you that we don't live very close to attractions, restaurants, and the like..." He trailed off, knowing that subject was a very touchy one.

I thought hard, dad didn't say much about where they lived, so I decided to ask right now while my mother wasn't around.

"He said he lived far off…" My voice locked up for a minute, and I started to second guess my desire to know where he lived, but I forced myself to ask the big question. "So, where does he live, exactly?"

A deep chuckle resonated throughout the other man's chest; he pointed to the pendant that hung on his neck. It was shaped like the full moon and bore the scene of the water rising, moving in a fluid motion. That's when it clicked; I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner. And suddenly, mom's past actions involving my dad made a lot more sense.

"The South Pole, nephew, the perfect canvas for waterbenders such as ourselves, don't you agree?"

He didn't turn to look at me when he said this, but the way he side eyed me was enough to tell me he knew.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets as we neared the house.

"Boy, you are the spitting image of your father, Sokanoq..." He began, patting me on the back hard enough to make me stumble. "And usually when a bender and non-bender have a child, the offspring is born with the ability to bend. The ability seems to be a dominant one."

I nodded right off the bat, but it took a moment or so to completely understand what had been said. The spitting image of my father, he said. I couldn't really understand that; make it click in my head because I haven't seen him in so long. Have I really forgotten him, his appearance, everything?

"Unfortunately, I didn't bring a single picture of him, but he is ready to meet with you again." The other man said, nudging me with his elbow to get my attention. We were really close to the house now, so I lowered my voice. This guy was a waterbender… It'd be wasting a great opportunity to just let it slip away, right?

"Could you, uh, show me some moves?"

He grinned, "Yes, if you can get your mother to approve, that is."

For some reason, his grin was infectious. I found myself smiling a bit as we walked right past our front door; we were going to take a little detour. I checked my watch, it read 1:23. I figured that if we were going out to eat, we should at least do it for dinner, if anything. I took out my phone to send a text to mom.

_Hey, me and Uncle Nolak are going to go out to go sightseeing since he's never been to this part of the US. _

Within a minute, I got a response.

_Where are you going? I'll come with._

_That'd be great and all, but I'm already with him and we've passed the house. It'd be hard to get back with you. _I took a moment to think of some kind of truth to mesh together with this lie, like I usually do. _Besides, Uncle Nolak says he wants to eat out. Can you make reservations at somewhere cool for dinner? _

This was it, which was either a deal maker or a deal breaker when it comes to my mom. After a few minutes of no response, I was about to turn around before finally feeling that humming of my phone in my pocket. It felt so good to hear that otherwise annoying sound.

Her response made me let out breath I didn't even know I can held in.

_That's wonderful; I'll make sure to book something nice. Don't eat so you don't spoil your appetite, and be back before 3:00._

I felt a nudge at my shoulder from the taller man as we walked and I looked over. Nolak was smirking in my direction; I already knew what he was thinking before he even said it.

"You sly dog, you!" He laughed aloud as he teased, "You definitely are your father's child, alright!"

He was going to catch me in a headlock, but I wiggled free before he could give me a noogie.

"Oi, none of that! Besides, I'm not that bad. That last one was kinda the truth, I think…"

We both laughed at this, long and hard at one another and at ourselves, as we walked towards our destination. Here in the city, they have this one place they like to call a nature preserve. It's pretty large in size and spacious. I've been there a couple times for field trips when I was still in school. What I was aiming to go to, though, was the powerful river that rushed right through it. This torrent of water not only divided the nature preserve, but also the city itself, into the eastern and western sides.

As we made our way to the coursing river, I stood near the edge, crossing my hands across my chest as my uncle gazed at the scene. He himself stood near the edge, hands in his pockets. His light blue attire stood out color-wise. The garment he wore had white fur fringes. How he wasn't burning up in that thing was beyond me.

"So, you've been here before?"

His inquiry threw me off. Why would he ask that? Why was I not seeing any badass waterbending techniques right now? He was doing that thing he does, not looking directly at me, side eyeing me as he expected a reasonable response. I guess I had to give him one.

"Well…" I was hesitant; secrets were on the verge of being revealed. "I used to come here at night… It was like I felt stronger, like I could do the coolest things." My voice failed me here, I struggled for words to translate emotion into dialogue, "This is the place I first found out I was a waterbender too… I'm not trying to get all sentimental on ya', but that's what really happened."

I looked outwards towards the water, remembering the day I discovered my bending. Mom used to take me here often to play with the other kids. She did what all moms do: Forcing their children, especially boys, to play and run around outside until they get tired before making them go take a night. There were a lot of bending kids around that day. Firebending and earthbending parents wore their traditional colors and styles, teaching their children the ability, martial arts, and spirituality of bending. While mother conversed with a non-bending couple, I played around with some of the other kids. I remember how we played this game where a chuck of earth was thrown around like a ball. I kept getting hit, getting burned, bruised by that horrible painful torture they had the gall to call a game. I was dumb then, though, and I kept getting up like I had something to prove.

At some point I had gotten too close to the river, and when I got hit again with the ball, I fell in. It wasn't as shallow as it looked and I got carried away quickly. I remember how I went down again and again. I was so young, I didn't understand what was happening, but I knew what drowning was; I didn't want that to happen to me. I kept going under, I heard my mom screaming my name. Between the going down and coming up, the rough current dragging me along, I saw her face. I threw out my hand to be with her, to reach out even though we were many meters apart… That was the first time I ever used my bending. Unbeknownst to me, the momentum of my palm being thrown forward caused a whip of water to fly out of the river and violently latch onto my mother. It was connected to me and I could feel it; it was an extension of me, my soul. The crowd that had gathered had to take hold of my mother, because the very thing that held me from being swept farther downstream was exerting a massive pull on her since she was my makeshift anchor. 

Later that day, my mother didn't speak a word to me. I couldn't tell if she was angry with me or disappointed that I fell in. It wasn't until much, much later in my life that I understood that she wasn't mad with me, but felt another way entirely when it came to the ability that saved my life…

I couldn't stop looking straightforward as I told my story to Uncle Nolak. I didn't know if he would understand, tell me to suck it up, or dismiss it entirely, but I hadn't told anyone about this before. It felt good to have someone like this to talk to; to tell anything to. How my mother could love everything about her son except the very thing that saved his life. I didn't hear or see him approach me from the left, but I felt his embrace when his muscular arms wrapped around me. He pulled me close and I knew that he could feel the hurt I've been feeling all these years about having to hide a part of myself away for the sake of my mother, who disliked both bending and benders alike, but he didn't say anything for a long time. When he did, he used his voice to give me comfort.

"Bending is a gift, Horuk, a good one. Don't let yourself think otherwise… I'm here."

I felt a sniffle come up, but I shoved it down just as quickly. When the embrace ended, I felt him pat my back reassuringly. His chiseled featured tainted with concern, like eyes looking for the hurt I felt inside to resurface on my face. I wouldn't let them.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. I wasn't going to continue on with the subject, so he must've decided to change it.

"Did you still feel like doing a little practice while we're here? It's almost…" He pulled out his own phone, unlocking it momentarily for check the time. "…2:30, actually."

It doesn't take much time to get back to the house from the preserve, since the house isn't exactly far from it, so I nodded in response.

"But we have to be back by 3:00," I began, "Since mom probably got us some reservation at a good restaurant."

The other bender raised an eyebrow, absentmindedly placing a hand on his stomach, since he was rather hungry. "Oh? That's right… I haven't eaten in a while. Hm… But enough about my eating habits. Have you ever been formally taught how to waterbend?"

I shook my head; there was no waterbender around in the city to teach the art.

"Thought so," Nolak began, shedding his outer fur coat, in favor of his clothing beneath. He wore a blue skintight undershirt that showcased his wide, muscular build, with a pair of baby blue trousers, lined with white fur. "It's hard to find us outside of our homeland."

He moved towards the water, moving his arms in circular movements with each stance seamlessly flowing into the next one. The graceful bending technique encouraged a ball of water to rise out from the powerful river, unaided. The levitating sphere was then moved over to me slowly, I'm sure, but a little too fast at the same time. I focused my concentration on the sphere of water; I could feel my power over it, like an extension of my own body. I tried to bend the water by moving my arms and changing my stances like my uncle did, but my movements were choppy. It quickly went from feeling like a part of my soul to a bowling ball or weight that was really hard to keep up. Before even two minutes had passed, the sphere lost its form and it poured out onto the ground. I didn't realize how much physical exertion it took to bend, and I found myself winded after the first try, tired by the second, and exhausted by the third.

I was going to give it another go when Nolak raised his hand up.

"Alright, that's enough." He bent down to pick his cloak from the ground, shaking it free from dust as he did so. Anyone could easily tell the power difference between him and me. His body was so toned; it looked like one punch could end a life. '

'_Feel bad for any girl that gets with him… He probably breaks every bone in their b—' _

My thoughts were interrupted by a gruff groan from the other male's mouth; he was looking at his watch.

"Hurry, we're late. It's already 3:00."

Whatever fatigue that held be down was forced to take a back seat, and I stood up so quick I thought I was gonna pass out.

"Crap! We're late!"

The way home was relatively quick, but to me it felt like for freaking ever. The streets were filled with the afternoon crowd and Nolak and I struggled to keep a fast pace. By the time we got home it was already 3:30, and I just knew for a fact I was screwed, so screwed. I pushed the door open ever so slightly, taking caution and listening out for that obnoxious squeaking noise that always ruins my attempts at sneaking back in. I didn't hear it this time, so I walked inside quietly, along with my uncle, before slowly closing the door shut.

_Click!_

Went the door as it locked into place, potentially compromising my mission, when I heard an all too familiar tone of an all too familiar woman.

"Well then, Horuk, you've once again managed to be late." She started off full of wind, so I knew she had a bunch more to say. "It's a good thing I told you to come home an hour _early_; otherwise we'd be late for our reservations!"

I got that bad feeling you get when you realized you'd been punked at this moment, before Uncle Nolak stepped in, doing something I've never seen anyone do.

"Actually, it was my fault, Bertha; I got us lost because I was distracted by the sights. I'm sorry about that; I didn't intend to make us late."

Whoa, he covered for me. And more importantly, he called her by her first name!

For a quick second, I swore I saw her eye twitch.

"Ah that explains it. Well then, I'll let you two boys get ready while I warm up the car." She held a neutral tone as she walked outside, shutting the door behind her, definitely unhappy about the man defending me.

"Thanks."

"No problem, nephew."

I walked into my room, rummaging through the closet for a change in wardrobe when a large duffel bag was thrown onto the bed. I stared at it for a moment, looking into the doorway only to see my uncle departing into his own prearranged living space. There was a cobalt blue ribbon around the bag, tied up in a nice, neat little bow. There was a note attached to it, from my father.

It read:

"_Dear Horuk, _

_My son, I'm sorry I have yet to see you. I know you have many questions, but know that I do love you and that I desperately want to see you very soon. My love for you is as strong – stronger – than any father can love his child. I did not abandon you of my free will, son. I hope that soon, I will be able to tell you that in person. _

_Odds are that you have inherited a powerful gift from me. In this bag is my gift to you, as a grieving father who has not seen his son in almost a decade. Please accept it. It was once my own, and I hope that you will treasure it as such. I love you._

_Sincerely, _

_Sokanoq."_

I held that piece of paper in my hands for a long time. I could almost feel the emotion emanating from it, and it made me want to hold it even more, even longer. Here was the same piece of paper my father held; this was his handwriting, his message to me, his son. I talked to him on the phone almost every day for the last three months, but I almost never made any progress. It's like how people say how sometimes texting is the easiest way to convey emotions to people, instead of saying it face or face or orally. This piece of parched paper, this letter to me, was a sign that there was much more progress to be made. I found that I felt the same way my father, Sokanoq, did. I desperately hoped, craved even, that soon I'd be able to hear him say those three powerful consecutive words to me in person.

'_I love you too, dad…'_

I felt around the duffle sack to find the zipper and pulled it down. Inside was an outfit similar to Uncle Nolak's. There was a light blue water proof jacket with a hood, a cloak, and baggy trousers, all lined with white fur. I admired and felt the texture of the material.

'_Did he make this himself?'_

I didn't waste any time putting them on. They were really comfortable, almost like wearing a pillow because of the fur. I could feel my body heat being kept in, so I wore my cloak loosely to let out the heat. I ran my hands through the sewn in pockets of the fur coat; what I found surprised me. The pockets were exceptionally deep, but I felt a rough ball-like object sitting at the bottom of my right pocket. I pulled it out; it was rolled up bundle of wax paper. Heavy footsteps approached, and I looked back toward the doorway and saw the muscular man I called my uncle once again. He walked over, taking the brown bundle of wax paper and began to unwrap it.

"Earlier," He started off; a smile growing on his face, the bundle grew increasingly thin as he stripped it layer by layer. "You asked me what your father's gift to you was. What if I told you that those handcrafted clothes from the South Pole weren't your most precious treasure?"

I watched as the last layer was stripped off of the object my father has gifted me. My eyes registered what it was, and I knew its cultural significance, but my heart could not process the sheer emotion that flowed through me. The older male's palms grabbed both of my own, clasping and encasing the beyond precious item in my grasp.

"It's yours now."

As his hands separated from my own, I could the cobalt pedant my father hand sent to me out of the underserved kindness of his heart. It was smaller than Nolak's own, but similar in shape. It signified the moon, the source of power of the tides as well as the waterbenders. Intricately engraved into it was a design of a wave, its crest tipping forwards, the symbol of the water manipulating abilities.

"Heh… He had it made for you when he left, determined to give it to you when you became a full-fledged waterbender."

'_Was this the feeling called unconditional love; the thing I had been craving all my life?'_

I was frozen in place, I couldn't think, act, or speak. Nolak opening his arms for me, and I gratefully welcomed the embrace. I heaved as I let go of my emotions and truly let the fact that I was in the good graces of my father sink in.

"…By all means, you are your father's son.."


End file.
